


Love and Chaos

by wightfaerie



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wightfaerie/pseuds/wightfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now an established couple, Starsky wants to celebrate his return to duty after the Gunther shooting and asks Hutch to tie him up. This brings back bad memories for Hutch. Can he grant Starsky's wish?</p><p>This is my only story with Hutch as the Master and Starsky as the sub.</p><p>This story appeared in the slash zine "Love Story 6", originally published by Requiem Publications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Chaos

  


LOVE AND CHAOS

Hutch lay back against the crisp white pillows, basking in the afterglow of his and Starsky's lovemaking. Lazily watching his lover pull on tight blue jeans that clung snuggly to his sexy ass, he muttered, "Don't go, Starsk."

Starsky wiggled his behind, grinning. "You know I've got to. We've been through this already." He stood in front of Hutch proudly. "This is it. The final medical review. My ticket back to normal life." He shook his finger, mimicking Hutch's usual scolding. "And if you keep dragging me back into bed, I'm gonna miss it all together."

Hutch groaned. "You'd better stop taunting me with that gorgeous gluteus-maximus, or I will physically pummel it into submission."

Starsky moaned hungrily. "Stop it, I've got to get a move on," he said, shrugging into his favorite blue t-shirt.

Hutch scanned Starsky's clothed body. His clothes practically fit him like a glove again, compared to when he had first come home after the Gunther shooting. Back in May, Starsky had complained that he had lost so much weight that his beloved blue jeans were too loose. He'd gained back muscle and stamina since then.

If Hutch was truthful, and he would never admit this to Starsky, he didn't want Starsky to make it to the medical review. He didn't want Starsky back out on the streets. He was scared that the next time someone shot at them, they wouldn't be so lucky. But, more than this feeling of impending doom, Hutch had been content in their own little world. The world where he'd discovered his feelings for his partner were more than brotherly love, and, to his surprise, discovered that Starsky felt the same.

Here, in their new home, they had explored each other intimately. Had been cocooned against the disapproving members of society. Not that anyone else knew about their new found sexual preference, except for Huggy, of course. Most of their friends just assumed that Hutch had bought the one story, two bedroom house to make things easier for Starsky. And they had been totally correct in the beginning – Hutch had liked the simple layout of the house while he was caring for his buddy during the long months of his recuperation. But as their love blossomed, they'd moved into a single bedroom, and things had changed for the better.

Now, if Starsky went back to work, things would be totally different. Hutch knew that it would take so much more effort to keep his lusts in check. He couldn't grab for Starsky every time he was horny.

On the other hand, he was looking forward to having a partner again.

"Earth to Hutch." Starsky's voice sliced into Hutch's reverie. "I've got to go, or I'm going to be really late."

Hutch shook his head and looked at Starsky. He was wearing the new distressed leather jacket Hutch had given him on his discharge from the hospital. Starsky looked so sexy with the collar turned up that Hutch just wanted to wrap his arms around his lover and drag him back into bed.

"Why don't you want me to come with you?" Hutch asked. "I don't see why you have to go alone." Hutch could hear the whine in his voice, but he didn't care. He needed to spend every moment with Starsky. He had hated working solo at the precinct, willing the clock hands to move faster so that he could rush off home to his new life.

"Because I'm a big boy, and I want you to prepare a fantastic celebration for the two of us when I get back. I've been thinking about that case Dobey roped you in on," Starsky said shyly, his eyes dropping to study the blue sneakers he loved to wear.

"What case?" Hutch leaned forward, stretching his arms out on the sheet covering his legs. Dobey had used him on a few cases where extra muscle was needed, knowing that Hutch was getting bored pushing paperwork and taking what he and Starsky used to call the 'soft cases'. Dobey wouldn't send any detective on a 'hard case' without backup, so he had loaned Hutch out to any investigative team that needed an extra member.

"The 'Wanda' case."

Hutch sat up in surprise. "The Dungeon Mistress. What about her?"

"I was thinking about the stuff you mentioned, you know, the equipment and... things. And I..." Starsky shuffled over to the bedroom door. "And I want to be tied up, by you, tonight. Got to go or I'll be late." Starsky ran out of the room.

Hutch heard the front door slam. "Damn, damn you, Starsk," he said. Trust Starsky to drop a bombshell like that and then leave, knowing full well that Hutch was naked and couldn't follow him.

He lay back down, his head on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He was in chaos at Starsky's revelation. He'd been enjoying their frolics so far, had Starsky? Obviously he wasn't fulfilling Starsky's sexual needs. Why did Starsky want bondage?

################

Hutch's thoughts flipped back twenty years, to a barn in Duluth.

He was seventeen. He and Jolene, his high school sweetheart, were lying in the hayloft. She was topless, and he was twisting her nipples between his fingertips. She giggled, trying to wiggle away from him.

"Oh, no, you don't, missy." He put a hand on her stomach and held her in place. Slowly, he edged his hand lower until it rested on the elastic of her slacks.

"Ken!" She quickly covered his hand with hers and stopped his exploration.

He laughed, kissing her hard and deep. She pulled his t-shirt off and covered his chest with kisses. The passion increased and they tugged at rest of their clothes in a frenzy until they were almost naked. With one quick jerk, he grabbed the front of her underwear, ripping it from her body. He gasped at her divine nakedness. Her thighs were topped with fine dark hair...

Hutch jolted back to reality. Why was he thinking about Jolene? _Putz, you know why_. He and Jolene had stayed together for five years.

His mind wandered back to another night in the barn, shortly before their break up. In the midst of their lovemaking, she whispered, "I want you to tie me up."

He was shocked, and pushed her away. "Where the hell did you get that idea from?"

She looked at him mischievously. "When we went to see your grandfather last month, and the rodeo was in town. Jack dared you to compete in the calf roping." She pretended to swing a lasso over her head with a flick of her wrist.

Hutch smiled at her attempt to mimic his performance. He had been so focused on the calf that he had forgotten about the crowd watching him.

"You looked so sexy, riding the horse, chasing the calf, overpowering it, and lashing the feet together." Her eyes shone at the memory. "And the smell of your sweat afterwards. You were so manly, so dirty."

"That calf was a slippery little thing." Hutch shook his head. "I was eating the dirt by the time I'd finished tying her."

Jolene blushed. "That night I dreamed that you were doing the same thing to me."

Hutch was dumbfounded, and wasn't sure that he could do what she asked. But he loved her and would try anything to please her. Instinctively, he peeled off his t-shirt. Yanking the fabric taut and twisting it tight, he covered her eyes with the cotton shirt.

Jolene started, goosebumps rippling her skin, but didn't tell him to stop. With a rush of arousal, Hutch secured the blindfold with a knot behind her head. She lay back on the wooden boards, panting, her breasts heaving with the force of her breathing.

"All right – we can try this, but if you don't like it..."

"We can stop," Jolene agreed. "I trust you, Ken. I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I didn't."

Hutch swallowed. "I love you," he said softly. Looking around the loft, Hutch spotted some rope hanging from a nail on a nearby post. "There's something I can use."

Stretching to full length, he managed to snag the bundle without having to stand up. He uncoiled the rope, testing the tensile strength.

"Put your hands together in front of you," Hutch said.

Jolene complied eagerly, crossing her wrists. "Like this?"

"Perfect." Hutch held them together, wrapping the rough hemp in a figure eight around her slim wrists.

Jolene giggled and twisted her arms just a little, shuffling her body on the floor.

Satisfied that she couldn't free herself, he tied a tautline knot. "Up now," Hutch murmured, gently raising her arms above her head. "Careful." He straightened her elbows, and wound the free end of the rope around the bottom of a wooden support. Her nude body bowed, her breasts popping up like ripe fruit.

"Ken..." Jolene purred sensually.

Softly, he said in her ear, "are you okay, baby? It's not too tight, is it?" He was amazed at how aroused he was. Tying a girl up for sexual pleasure had never occurred to him before.

"I'm fine," she replied breathlessly. "Don't stop."

Bending over her, he placed his lips on hers. Jolene breathed into him, moaning with passion. Hutch thrust his tongue inside her mouth, exploring the moist, succulent cavern. She matched his technique, her tongue tickling the roof of his mouth.

Moving slowly, he nibbled her ear, and kissed her soft neck, reveling in the heady bouquet of her scent. Finally, he closed his lips around her nipple, sucking the sweet nub until it stood up proud. Jolene moaned quietly, tensing under his caress.

Hutch circled the delicate areola with the tip of his tongue, and Jolene cried out, jerking her bound wrists.

He kneaded her breasts, admiring the way the skin reddened. He loved the feel of the small firm mounds in his hands. Her breasts were like thick taffy that he wanted to devour. Not knowing where the urge came from, he bit down hard on one nipple. Her squeal of pain fired his ardor, and he pushed his hand roughly between her legs. She screamed with arousal as he inserted three fingers into her tight vagina.

"What the hell's going on up there?" a voice called from below.

Hutch had been so engrossed that he hadn't heard the barn door open. _Shit!_ recognized that voice. Rex, Jolene's brother.

 _Shit, shit, shit_.

"Rex!" Jolene gasped in shock, tugging on the ropes. "Ken, get them..."

"Sssh!" Frantically, he fumbled with the knot, but Jolene's struggling tightened the ropes more. "Stay still," Hutch hissed.

Rex's dark head appeared at the top of the ladder. "Oh, God. What are you doing to her?"

"Rex! Stop!" Jolene scooted on her butt until she was sitting, twisting her wrists to get the rope off.

Before Hutch could move or speak, Rex roared and tore across the loft. He slammed into Hutch, tumbling both of them over into the hay. Hutch landed on his back, with Rex on top of him.

"I-it's not what you think. Sh-she asked me t-to." Hutch tried to fend off Rex and escape.

"Rex, he's not hurting me. What's happening?" Jolene shouted, tugging at her bonds, and trying to get the blindfold off.

Hutch and Rex rolled over, slugging each other. Hutch tried unsuccessfully to block Rex's punches and shoved his elbow into the other boy's chin.

Panting, Rex managed to get to his feet. He dragged Hutch upright with a curse. "You pervert!" Rex pushed hard with both hands and Hutch fell backward, crashing through the spindly railing around the loft. He howled when he hit the ground.

################

Hutch woke up in the hospital, with one almighty headache and an extremely painful, stiff back. He could barely sit up on his own. What hurt more was the look in his mother and father's eyes when they visited him later that day.

"We know what happened," said his father sternly. "Everyone knows what happened. I can't believe a son of mine would do a thing like that."

His mother stood silently behind his father, dabbing her wet eyes with a white handkerchief, her red painted lips pursed tightly.

Hutch didn't know which action tore at his heart the most. His mother's silent crying or his father's angry tirade. The disapproval emanating from his parents slammed into his body as surely as if they had physically struck him.

"Father, she asked me to do it," Hutch said quietly. But he could tell from his parents' faces that it didn't matter what he said. He had been caught doing something evil. He had committed a dreadful sin. One he was sure his parents would never be able to forgive him for.

Hutch dreaded what his friends would say when he got out of the hospital. Just the idea of walking into college made him physically ill – he couldn't eat or sleep. His friends left him in droves with hisses of 'pervert' and 'deviant', and all the girls gave him a wide berth. He had turned into a pariah, simply because he had loved Jolene enough to grant her wish.

But no one believed it had been her idea.

Jolene's father shipped her upstate to care for a sick aunt. She wrote to Hutch at first, but his father intercepted his mail. "No contact allowed, that was how we kept you out of jail!" he said, tearing up her letters in front of Hutch.

At almost 21 years old, Hutch knew this was a violation of his civil rights.

He toughed it out for a few months, but not one of his family or friends changed their attitude. He hated that he had disappointed his parents, and found after a time that he could barely look at them any longer without shame. He should never have agreed to what Jolene wanted. He and his father argued all the time. His mother either cried or just plain ignored his presence. The only friend he had left was Jack Mitchell, and he wasn't around much any more.

Eventually, Hutch had enough. Packing a small bag with some clothes and his favorite books, he hitchhiked to LA.

################

Hutch took a shuddery breath, back in the present, in the bedroom he shared with Starsky.

Oh, God, remembering his disgrace was the last thing he needed. Starsky had thrown him headlong back into that world. Why did his sexual partners keep asking him for bondage? Several girlfriends had suggested using his handcuffs, but he had always refused.

This was the second time in his life that bondage threatened to turn it upside down. His heart was telling him to comply with Starsky's wish, just as he had with Jolene. His head was telling him that it could be professional suicide. Adding bondage to their already taboo sex life was playing with fire. If this got out, it was goodbye career. His stomach was threatening to turn inside out as he fought with the turmoil raging through his body.

Could he survive another disaster? A little voice said, "With Starsky by your side, you can survive anything."

Reaching into the bedside drawer, he pulled out a note pad and pen. He turned to a clean page and drew a line down the center to make two columns. Making lists always calmed him down, helped him sort through the jumbled thoughts in his mind.

_THEN NOW_

_Jolene Starsky_

_Loved her Love him with my heart and soul_

_Public place Our home, locked door_

_Got caught Not planning to get caught_

_Ended up in hospital Hope not!_

_Parents'/peers disapproval Won't know – hopefully_

_End of relationship Start of who knows what?_

_Had to leave Duluth End of career_

He stared at the words in each list. Chewing the end of the pen, he sighed.

How was he supposed to do this? It brought back too many bad memories. There were times when he wished he had told Starsky about Duluth, and how he had ended up in LA. Starsky had no way of knowing what torture his request was awakening in Hutch. Damn the Hutchinson "Suffer in Silence" mantra.

Hutch forced himself to concentrate on the here and now. He reread his list. Starsky wasn't Jolene. Hutch wasn't as young and naïve as he had been back in Duluth. He was older, wiser.

Sure, he could tell Starsky. Talk through his feelings. They could decide together if bondage was the way to take their relationship forward. But then Hutch would have to admit how stupid he'd been, tying a girl up in a barn where anyone could see them. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And he would be shifting the decision from his own shoulders onto his partner. Starsky would then have to deal with the fact that he had been the one responsible for ripping his lover's darkest secret from its hiding place, churning up a memory that Hutch had tried so hard to suppress.

Starsky had been through so much, and Hutch just wanted to make him happy. But Starsky had made the one wish that Hutch wasn't sure he could grant. Taking deep breaths, he tried to focus his lover's request.

What did Starsky want? The whole dungeon shebang? Special restraints? Sex toys? Handcuffs? Or just rope? How the hell did he expect Hutch to do this? In their line of work, he couldn't wander into an adult shop and buy sex toys.

Or could he? Maybe if he found one far enough away from Bay City? Huggy would have a contact, he always did.

 _Smart, Hutchinson_. This isn't something you can go to Huggy with. "Hey, Hug. Starsky wants to be tied up, you got a contact?"

Hutch laughed out loud as he imagined the look on Huggy's face. Then again, Huggy hadn't been shocked when he found out Starsky and Hutch were a couple. But this was stretching friendship too far.

Hutch climbed slowly out of bed and wandered around the room, pulling out drawers and peering into closets. Would he be able to satisfy Starsky's bondage itch without buying special equipment? If Starsky liked it, they could go shopping another time, further afield. Take a few days vacation. Buy what they needed from another town.

Making a mental list, he continued to search the house. Handcuffs, leather belts, tie belts, neck ties, cotton clothes line. Hutch fingered the twisted fibers. It reminded him of the rope he had used on Jolene. His heart beat faster. He closed his eyes, trying to push the memory back into the depths of his mind where it had been hidden all these years. With every action, a negative thought invaded his head.

Hutch tried not to think too much, and continued his search. Clothes pins, sleep masks, candles.

Could he do this?

Could he make this work, or would it feel like being tied up by a thug who used whatever was handy at the time? _Oh God, Starsk, why do you do these things to me?_

He walked around the house looking for things to secure Starsky to. There were plenty of hooks, mostly holding his plants, some holding kitchen paraphernalia. All of which could be removed quickly and easily.

Then he spotted the wooden roof supports. His gut clenched, remembering Jolene again. The image of her tied up and vulnerable suddenly nauseated him.

He shook his head. Decision time. He had two choices. Tell Starsky the whole sorry story and admit that he was too weak to confront his demons head on, or get in with the plan and make Starsky happy. He loved Starsky more than he loved himself. But could that love override the massive fear building inside him? He was sure as hell going to try.

As with Jolene, they could always stop if one of them didn't like it.

Spotting the coffee Starsky had made earlier, Hutch grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. He walked over to the couch and sat down to work out how he was going to fulfill Starsky's desire.

Starsky's medical review was at 11 am. Hutch figured about one hour for the exam, then Starsky would have to meet with Dobey for the decision, and drive back. Approximately three hours, all total. Starsky should be home around 2 pm.

Draining the cup, he put it on the coffee table. Think, Hutchinson. What are you going to do? Starsky's expecting to be restrained. You need a plan, and fast.

What should he tie Starsky to? Not the hooks, that reminded Hutch of Simon Marcus and his freaks. The wooden posts reminded him of Jolene, and he didn't want to go there again.

The bed. Yes, the bed. No bad memories there. Hutch had never really liked the ostentatious white metal four poster that Starsky had chosen, but now he wondered if Starsky had been thinking about bondage back then. It was ideal for tying Starsky spread-eagle on his back, or his belly. At least it didn't have mirrors above it, like Starsky's old bed. Much to Hutch's disgust, that lived in the guest room, or Starsky's bedroom to visitors.

He collected the candles from the kitchen and placed them around the bedroom. He would light them just before Starsky came back. Set the mood, add ambience.

Gathering up all the possible restraints and other stuff on his list, Hutch decided to forego the handcuffs--they felt too much like work, not play. Carefully, he folded the cotton line four times and cut it into separate lengths with a kitchen knife. Taking his stash into the bedroom, he set it all down in the empty laundry basket next to the bed.

After stripping the bed of the white sheets he favored, Hutch remade it with the red satin sheets that Starsky had bought. These were rarely used because the satin was slippery. Although fun, sliding around during sex wasn't entirely safe, especially when Starsky had slid off the bed and hit his head on the bedside table. Hutch figured that with Starsky anchored to the bedposts, it would be okay.

Now it was his turn. Shrugging out of his bathrobe, he threw it onto the bed and walked naked into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he stepped under the hot stream of water and stood, letting it run over his body, watching it disappear down the drain. He wished that his negative feelings could be washed away so easily.

Feeling slightly refreshed, Hutch climbed out of the tub, wrapped a towel around his hips and, feet wet, gingerly negotiated the tiled floor. Reaching the carpeted living room, he shivered and hurried into the bedroom. He dried himself quickly and pulled on Starsky's favorite skimpy black silk briefs.

Wandering back into the bathroom, he quickly shaved and, picking up the almost empty bottle of Paco Rabanne, splashed the contents into his hands and rubbed around his chin and neck. A quick teeth brushing, flick of the comb and he was ready.

Hutch prepared a plateful of pastrami on rye, with chips on the side and a bowl of fruit salad for lunch. Covering these up with a cloth, he sat at the kitchen table, and glanced at the clock on the wall, over the fridge. It read 1:35. What to do now?

Having time to think wasn't a welcome option. He needed to be doing something. A big part of Hutch's insecurity was analyzing his shortcomings too much. He wished he was as carefree as Starsky was most of the time. The few times he actually bared his soul, Starsky always told him "it wasn't his fault, it was his upbringing." But Hutch knew that wasn't true. For the most part, he had gotten along well with his parents, and was popular in school. But all that had changed after the bondage incident.

################

The distinctive sound of the Torino engine outside sliced into his thoughts. Snatching up the matchbook from the table, Hutch stumbled into the bedroom and, striking a match, rapidly lit the candles. Waiting until he heard the front door slam, he called, "Stop. Stay where you are."

A surprised, "huh?" came from the living room.

"How did the medical review go, Starsk?" he asked, not wanting Starsky to see his preparations until he was sure it was a celebration.

"Good," Starsky replied happily. "Start Monday, and Dobey said you can have the weekend off. We're back, buddy. Can I move now?"

"That's great, Starsk. Really great," said Hutch. He was happy for Starsky, but a small part of him still wished the result had been different. _Stop it, Hutchinson, don't be so selfish._

"Well, can I move, or not?" demanded Starsky.

"Not. You hungry?" Hutch asked as he bent over and grabbed a sleep mask from the basket.

"No, grabbed a burger from the cafeteria. Dobey was in a meeting, so I had to wait."

Hutch could hear Starsky fidgeting in the other room. Now that he was here, Hutch wasn't sure he could go through with this. Shaking his head, he walked to the door and sashayed slowly into the living room. His pouch was prominent, and bouncing around, the silky briefs taut and clingy. He stopped halfway between the bedroom and Starsky, hands on his hips, blindfold dangling from his right hand. Thrusting his pelvis in Starsky's direction, he purred seductively, "do you like what you see, lover?"

Starsky growled, and started to walk forward.

"I said stay." Hutch could see the hungry lust in Starsky's eyes. Any doubts he had were shattered into a million pieces. Starsky wanted this, so Hutch buried his anxieties for another time.

"Hutch, please, I wanna touch you. You look so goddamn sexy," murmured Starsky. He stood still, with his hands by his thighs, twitching his fingers. It was obvious he wanted to grab Hutch's body, but he obeyed the command.

"Clothes off, now. All of them," ordered Hutch. He watched as his partner tore at his clothes, amazed at the speed that Starsky got naked. It took all of Hutch's will power not to take him there and then. That hairy body always turned him on. The contrast to his own practically hairless body awakened a primeval urge in him. He loved running his fingers through that rug of chest hair. It made him even more aware that he was no longer attracted to women. His lust for smooth, soft skin had been dispelled by the dark hairy god in front of him.

"Hutch," Starsky pleaded, giving Hutch one of his puppy dog looks.

Hutch hardened his demeanor. "No talking. From now on, speech is not allowed, except when I ask you a question. Do you understand?"

Starsky looked surprised. "Yes," he whispered.

Hutch closed the gap between them with two long strides, circling around Starsky and placing the mask over his eyes.

Starsky jumped as Hutch fastened the blindfold. "No."

"No? No what?"

"I want to see you. Can't with this on," Starsky said breathlessly.

"No isn't a word you use today. If it hurts and you want me to stop, you can say "desist". Remember that I am in charge, and you are my prisoner. What I say is law. Understand?"

Starsky nodded silently. He smiled weakly, a look of apprehension on his face.

Was he being too harsh and taking the fun out of this? Hutch stood a moment, checking out Starsky's body language. He didn't look scared or upset – actually, he seemed to be getting a little excited.

Quietly, he said in Starsky's right ear, "You can see all you want later, babe." Grabbing Starsky's shoulders, he steered him toward the bedroom. Stopping at the door, he pulled the blindfold up to Starsky's forehead. "One quick peek."

Starsky looked around the room, smiling. The flickering flames of the candles reflected in his eyes.

"Still want me to restrain you?" Hutch asked, planting tiny kisses along Starsky's neck and shoulders, and breathing in the musky scent of his partner. How he loved that smell. Nuzzling behind the ear, he paid particular attention to the soft skin, before moving slowly down to his favorite part – the sweet curve of Starsky's neck where it joined the shoulder.

"Yes, more than ever," Starsky replied earnestly.

Hutch flipped the blindfold back over Starsky's eyes. Guiding him over to the bed, Hutch turned him around and sat him down. "Move to the middle of the bed, and lay down."

Starsky tentatively moved backward, swinging his legs up onto the bed. Lying down, he felt for the edges of the mattress.

Hutch inhaled, drinking in the beauty of the outstretched body in front of him. The contrast of the dark skin against the red sheets. The quickening movement of Starsky's rib cage, as he lay blind, waiting for what would happen next. Starsky shifted his head from side to side, straining for any sound from Hutch.

Taking two ropes from the basket, Hutch tucked the end of one into his briefs and grabbed Starsky's left wrist, pulling it toward the corner of the bed. He looped the center of the rope snuggly around the wrist and knotted it. Then he tied the two loose ends around the metal post, tightening the first knot until he heard Starsky gasp.

He looked at the stretched arm. "Is that too uncomfortable, do you want it looser?" Hutch was aware that stretching Starsky's chest and shoulder too much wouldn't be a good idea, not with the recently healed bullet wounds.

"No, it's okay, just no more." Starsky shifted slightly, flexing his wrist.

Hutch finished off the second knot, checking that it wouldn't work untied. He walked around the bed and similarly restrained the right wrist. "That okay? Can you get free?"

"Yes." Starsky struggled a little. "And no."

Leaning over, Hutch locked onto Starsky's mouth. He trapped Starsky's tongue between his teeth and sucked, tweaking Starsky's nipples at the same time.

Starsky moaned, arching his body and trying to push himself closer to Hutch, bracing himself with his feet.

"Oh, no, pal," Hutch said, pushing him flat. "Can't have those feet doing what they want."

Snagging the other two ropes, he quickly parted Starsky's legs and secured an ankle to each post of the footboard.

Starsky's cock stood like a sentry in the middle of his body. All red, hard and throbbing.

"Oh, God, Starsk. You look so gorgeous," Hutch growled, looking at the outstretched body, the pale pink scars snaking through Starsky's dark chest hair, and his wonderful curls – all frothy above the black satin blindfold. "I just want to eat you all up. Stay there."

Starsky laughed. "Don't think I'm going anywhere, do you?"

Hutch frowned sternly. "Did I say you could speak?"

"Sorry, I won't do it again, Master," Starsky answered meekly.

Hutch smiled. _Master_ , sounded good. _I suppose I am his Master, for now at least._

"And don't you forget that, slave. You must be punished for your insubordination." Hutch was shocked the moment the words came out of his mouth. _Where had that come from?_

Now he had to follow up on that threat. leaned over the side of the bed, slipping a little on the sheet and rummaged in the basket. He clutched two clothes pins between his fingers. Without a word, he stretched Starsky's right nipple and closed the jaws of the pin around it. Quickly, he did the same to the left nipple.

Starsky yelped and squirmed, as if he was trying to dislodge the offending clamps.

"Don't move." Hutch left the bedroom and walked over to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard near to the small window over the sink, he took out a jar of honey and grabbed a wet cloth from the sink.

Walking back to the bedroom, he was very aware of the uncomfortable tightness in his groin area. He fingered the bulging material, his erection threatening to burst through the silky briefs. Slipping his hand under the elastic waistband, he pinched the base of his penis between his fingers. Restricting the blood flow softened his hardness just enough to curb his impending orgasm.

Starsky lay – still and quiet. His nipples were pale and bloodless in contrast to the dark pins.

A lump rose in Hutch's throat as the enormity of Starsky's obedience washed over him. Starsky was giving just as much back to Hutch, as he was giving to Starsky. Hutch was doing all the work, but Starsky was trusting him with the most precious gift of all, his freedom, and movement. Hutch suddenly realized that the success so far was helping alleviate his fears from his experience with Jolene.

He sat on the bed, twisting the lid off of the jar of honey. Shoving his fingers inside, Hutch scooped out the sticky goo. He knelt between Starsky's legs and closed his honey soaked hand around Starsky's erection, coating it with a thick layer of sweet clover scented honey. Bending over, he licked the shaft like a lollipop, savoring the mingled taste of honey and pre-cum, trying to decide which was the sweetest.

Starsky started at Hutch's touch. He hummed in time with Hutch's stroking and licking.

Hutch took Starsky's full length in his mouth and sucked greedily, moving his head up and down, his teeth scraping the skin. Starsky gasped wordlessly, thrusting up into Hutch's mouth. Slowly, Hutch flicked his tongue around the engorged crown, stopping only to push the tip into the urethra.

"Hutch!" Starsky cried on a drawn out sigh.

Teasing Starsky's balls with his fingertips, and gently stroking along the perineum, Hutch reached the anus. Starsky stiffened for a moment before relaxing, his whole body seeming to open for Hutch. Gently, he tickled the puckered skin and thrust his index finger through the opening. Hutch stopped as the sphincter muscle tightened around his joint.

Starsky tensed and moaned, sucking in air. His mouth opened, then clamped shut quickly.

Hutch wiggled his finger and pushed deeper inside Starsky's rectum as the resistance lessened. When his finger disappeared completely, he pushed a second, then a third finger, into the warm canal. He hit the prostate gland with his middle finger and gave it a massage, grinning when Starsky whimpered, shuddering with pleasure.

Scraping his teeth up the length of Starsky's hard shaft, Hutch flicked his tongue around the slit at the top. With a quick kiss to the tip, Hutch laughed. "You like that?" He was enjoying this more than he expected.

Starsky made a guttural sound deep in his throat and he strained against his bonds, widening his legs.

He wanted more! really seemed to be getting off on being restrained.

Engulfing Starsky once more, Hutch could feel the pressure of Starsky's cock mounting against the roof of his mouth. He deep throated Starsky's penis, swallowing fast as Starsky's juices erupted into his esophagus. For a second, Hutch almost choked from the force of the fluid squirting down his throat and he pulled his head back,

Starsky's semi-hard erection slipped from Hutch's mouth, leaking liquid on to Starsky's curly dark pubic hair.

With a final swallow Hutch took in the rest of the seminal fluid, and he licked his lips, loving the taste of Starsky's sweet, honey flavored cum. Panting heavily, Hutch maneuvered himself in a more comfortable position, and slowly wiggled the fingers that were still inside Starsky, gently massaging his prostate gland once more. Starsky's muscles clamped hard on Hutch's fingers.

"God, oh, God," Starsky cried out, arching and writhing within the confines of his bonds.

Hutch winced, the sudden movement wrenching his arm, threatening to break his fingers. He quickly removed them from the warmth of Starsky's anus.

Starsky hissed. "No... Hutch... please..."

Hutch chuckled at Starsky's pleas. "I love you, Starsk." He shifted up to Starsky's face, kissing him repeatedly with Starsky semen flavored lips.

"I love you, too." Starsky licked his lips. "Your turn, Hutch. "I want to taste you. I want you in my mouth, please."

"I thought I gave the orders around here?" Hutch admonished. A warm glow enveloped him. An immense rush of desire took his breath away. He inhaled quickly, and deeply, and exhaled much more slowly. Starsky would never guess how much satisfaction Hutch got from hearing him beg. "I want to come inside you. I want your pretty ass." He ran his fingers lightly through the path of hair running from Starsky's chest to his genitals.

Starsky groaned, twisting his hips toward the gentle touch.

Hutch's progress was halted by the sticky mass of honey and cum that matted Starsky's public hairs together. "Hmm, may be we should get some of this cleaned off you first, Starsk." He leaned over the side of the bed and snagged the wet cloth he had dropped there earlier. It had dried off some, but Hutch figured it was damp enough to mop up most of the mess. "Wouldn't want stain these nice sheets of yours."

"Hutch... please..." Starsky begged again.

Ignoring Starsky's vocals, Hutch first wiped his own hands clean, and then rubbed the cloth over Starsky's groin.

The firm motion elicited a guttural growl, and more wiggling from Starsky.

"Stay still." Hutch grinned when Starsky's penis responded to the massaging action as Hutch transformed the sticky tangle back to the curly brush that he loved. "That's clean enough for now." Hutch threw the cloth to the floor, and removed the pins from Starsky's nipples, flicking a fingernail against each swollen, reddened nub.

Starsky breathed in quickly.

Hutch kissed and licked Starsky's chest, stroking the scar lines with his fingertips. He was mesmerized by the topography across the hairy terrain.

Starsky snapped his head up when Hutch moved his hand. "Hutch, don't."

He pulled Hutch out of his daydream. "What?" Hutch focused on his right hand hovering over one of the scars on Starsky's shoulder. "Am I hurting you? Sorry, Starsk. I didn't mean to."

"No, it's not hurting, just... so ugly," Starsky said in a shaky voice.

Hutch looked at the blindfolded man, and saw the slight movement of Starsky's jaw, the muscles clenching tightly. "Starsky, don't ever say that again," he said, a little harsher than he'd intended. "You are beautiful. The scars are beautiful. They are part of you. A testimony of your will to survive against all odds." He laughed. "You can barely see them under this rug of yours." Grabbing a handful of chest hair, he pulled teasingly.

Starsky tensed under Hutch's hands. "They're all I see when I look in the mirror," he said sadly.

Kissing the scarred area, Hutch whispered, "I love you, Starsky. All of you. Always remember that." Lifting his head, he kissed Starsky on the lips, pushing his tongue between the gritted teeth.

"I love you, too, Hutch." Starsky relaxed, returning Hutch's kiss earnestly.

Forcing himself to leave his lover's delectable mouth, Hutch twisted around, leaning toward the bottom of the bed. "And I still want that beautiful ass of yours. Let's get you in to a more comfortable position." He untied Starsky's left ankle, wincing at the red dent in the skin. Hutch massaged the ridges with his fingers. Then he turned and released the right ankle, repeating the technique to ease the newly freed limb.

Starsky cautiously moved his legs and groaned.

"You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, hips are a little stiff." Starsky shifted his hips, trying to close his legs. He trapped Hutch between his thighs.

Hutch climbed over Starsky's thigh and sat on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his hands briskly up and down Starsky's lower body, hoping that he was relieving some of the discomfort Starsky seemed to be experiencing. "I'm gonna untie your wrists, are you ready?"

"Yes."

Hutch tugged at the rope that secured Starsky's left wrist to the bedpost. Damn, Starsky's writhing around had tightened the knot.

Starsky grunted when Hutch stretched his arm to lessen the tautness on the bound wrist.

"Sorry, buddy. Knot's kind of hard to untie. Got it." Hutch quickly freed Starsky's wrist, and massaged the reddened, puckered skin. Clambering over Starsky's torso, Hutch released the other wrist, repeating the massage.

Starsky winced as he carefully moved his arms. "Aaahhhh."

"Shoulders hurt, too, ahh?" Hutch asked, concerned that the prolonged position might have damaged Starsky somehow.

"A little. Be okay in a minute," Starsky answered as he slowly rubbed and rotated the joints.

Hutch lay on the mattress next to Starsky. "Come here," he said, scooping Starsky up into a hug. "Keep the blindfold on, I'm not finished with you yet. Let me know when you're ready." Hutch pushed Starsky onto his back, gently kneading his shoulders and hips. He felt the muscles soften under his fingers.

Starsky purred, turning to rub his groin against Hutch's leg.

Hutch's penis hardened more, and he felt Starsky's growing erection digging into his flesh. _Oh, God, Starsk. I want you so much._

Starsky groped blindly for Hutch's cock. "Now, Hutch. I want you to come in my mouth. I want to swallow you."

"Oh, no, buddy boy. I never gave you permission to take over, did I?" Hutch flicked Starsky's hand away.

"No, Master," Starsky answered meekly. "But I want..."

"Turn on your front and kneel, elbows on the bed, wrists together," Hutch ordered. Love rushed over him as Starsky did as he asked, even though he had wanted to give Hutch a blow job. He wrapped a rope around Starsky's wrists, fastening them together, and secured it to the bed frame.

"Hutch, now, please," begged Starsky, wiggling his butt.

Hutch slapped Starsky's right butt cheek hard, amazed at the bright red handprint he left.

Starsky hissed with pain, nearly toppling over with the force of the slap. He ducked his head, taking a long, slow breath, and steadied himself on his knees.

"When I'm good and ready, slave." Hutch was shocked at how pleased he was to see his mark on Starsky's body. How could he be proud of such violence. He felt suddenly bigger, stronger – and yet, conversely protective of his partner.

Grasping Starsky's hips, Hutch buried his face in the soft right buttock and sucked, tasting the saltiness of blood in his mouth when he raised a hickey. Now he had well and truly left his mark on his lover.

Reaching over for the lubricant he had placed in the basket, he liberally coated his cock. Teasing his partner's anus, he inserted his penis, stopping halfway when Starsky winced, and his muscles squeezed Hutch mercilessly.

Starsky panted. Hutch waited – they'd done this before, but it was always slower than he wanted to go. His impulse was to jam right in, which could tear and injure Starsky. Something he never wanted to do.

Giving Starsky a minute to accommodate his girth and work through the pain, Hutch rammed deeper, smiling as he disappeared inch by inch into the luscious chamber.

Their bodies and souls were truly joined; they shared the same ecstasy. He rocked his pelvis, grinding his rod into his lover, faster and faster, myriad fireworks exploding in his head. His orgasm lifted him higher than ever before.

"Huuutch," Starsky screamed, his body shaking.

Hutch shuddered, his body rigid from the intensity of his climax. He slumped, all energy spent, his full weight pressing Starsky into the mattress. He lay, panting and boneless.

"Hutch, Hutch." Starsky twisted under him. "Buddy, you're going to have to move. I'm sliding on these sheets." He buckled and Hutch rolled sideways.

Edging forward, Hutch spooned Starsky, draping his arm over Starsky's side and hugging him. "Sorry, Starsk. You all right?" He untied the rope anchoring Starsky's wrists to the bedside.

"I'm fine. That was fucking amazing," Starsky enthused. "Better than I ever imagined. Thank you." Starsky pushed his back against Hutch's front, and wiggled his butt.

Hutch's penis slipped into Starsky's butt crack. Hutch laughed. "Better take that blindfold off."

"Not yet. I like this." Starsky shuffled over onto his back, settling his hands on his stomach.

"Okay, if that's what you want." Hutch caressed Starsky's chest lightly. He leaned over, kissing and licking the scarred skin. "You want to do this again?"

"Definitely. Like we are now. You the Master and me the slave." Starsky turned his head to face Hutch. "If you want to?"

Hutch laughed. Typical Starsky, turning to look at him, even though he was still blindfolded. "Can't see any reason why not." He had well and truly buried his demons. Bondage with Starsky felt so right.

Starsky grinned mischievously. "Me neither. I didn't realize it would be that good. You were terrific. Have you done this before?"

Hutch didn't answer Starsky. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. A _long time ago, pal. May be one day, I will tell you all about it._

Starsky shoved the blindfold off of his eyes, blinking rapidly as he adjusted to the brightness. He looked at Hutch "What you thinking, Hutch?"

Hutch turned to him, and smiled. "I'm thinking we need a vacation and a shopping trip. See what delights we can find for our new hobby." He took Starsky's face in his hands and kissed the end of his nose. "I need to know more if this is going to be a regular thing. It has to be done right." Then he kissed Starsky's forehead. "The whole package, pleasure and pain. How does that sound?"

Starsky sighed. "Like heaven."

With one final kiss on Starsky's lips, Hutch sat up. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up. Lunch is going to get stale on the table out there. And I haven't eaten all day." He slapped Starsky's bare butt, and ran into the bathroom laughing.

################ 


End file.
